


Forward

by TheIneffableLily



Series: Free Falling [4]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Developing Relationship, M/M, No Sex, and i walk further away from canon, joe is the reasonable one, just a lot of talking, nicky freaks out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:47:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28418589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIneffableLily/pseuds/TheIneffableLily
Summary: The first words out of Nicky’s mouth when Joe opened the front door were, “I just bought a gym.” It took him aback and all he could say in return was, “Oh. Neat.”
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: Free Falling [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1982570
Comments: 44
Kudos: 251





	Forward

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I appreciate all of the kind comments this little verse is getting. There isn't sex in this one, - I tried, but I guess they weren't in the mood for it. I hope you enjoy a little backstory and character development.
> 
> TW: brief mentions of sexual harassment in the workplace and of a past abusive relationship.

Forward

Nile’s reaction to seeing a picture of Joe on Nicky’s phone was to choke on her soda. Not that Nicky blamed her. That picture was particularly flattering: the focus of it should have been the drawing on the table, but Joe had looked over his bare shoulder just as the picture was being taken, so the sketch at the tip of his pencil had become secondary. All of the comments under that post were an assortment of suggestive emojis and endless flattery. Nicky assumed the picture was supposed to look natural, the elusive artist caught in his natural habitat, but there was a spark in Joe’s eyes and a twitch in the corner of his mouth that suggested that he knew exactly what he was doing. Knowing Joe as he did (or at least, as he was starting to), Nicky was sure he lavished in the attention and wouldn’t have passed the chance to fish for a compliment.

Nile lowered her drink and said, “You’re sleeping with Yusuf Al-Kaysani?”

Nicky’s shocked expression mimicked that of his friend’s.

“You know him?”

“I know _of_ him. Love his Instagram. I think I’ve spent most of my insomniac nights staring at his art. His time-lapse videos are mesmerizing.”

Nicky was yet to see such videos, but he’d scrolled down his Instagram the night before and he could see why Nile was impressed. Joe’s art comprised of still-life drawings that were so exquisite in details that Nicky thought he’d been staring at a photograph at first. It was strange to think that Nile, who’d only ever seen pictures of Joe’s work through her Instagram feed, had learned his name long before he’d even slept with him.

“How did you end up getting hickeys from one of the most promising artists of the 21st century, according to critics.”

“That’s a colorful way to put it.”

She looked at him, expectantly, and Nicky offered a sanitized version of the events that had led him to Joe’s bed.

“That was almost a month ago. Why am I just hearing about it now?”

“It’s… very new.”

“Still.”

She took a large bite off of her turkey sandwich. She’d always had a voracious appetite, but Nicky thought he could spot a hint of stress in how quickly she was reducing her lunch to crumbs.

Before he could ask, she asked, “So, are you guys dating or…”

“We’re playing it by ear,” he said, a neutral answer he’d prepared before arriving for lunch that was easier than trying to explain the nature of their relationship. Nile’s mouth twisted in a way that indicated she wasn’t buying it, but Nicky moved on. “Of course, as best friend, you do have veto rights. I wouldn’t want you to - how did you put it? - chase him down and make him choke on his own balls.”

“Hey!” she protested. “I remember putting an _if_ in front of that sentence. As in, _if_ this guy is hurting you, I will chase him down and make him choke on his own balls.”

 _He might be into that_ , Nicky thought, then hid a chuckle behind a sip of water.

Nile was muttering, “Idiot Mark, making me look like a hysterical bitch.”

“Nah, he liked it. He thought you were feisty.”

“He did?”

“Yeah. I’m sure you’ll both get along fine and… bore me half to death talking about art. I wouldn’t stop you if you wanted to extend the same threat to Mark, though.”

“Already taken care of.”

Nicky raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“I called him back and made it very clear that, if he ever scared me over a hickey again, I’d send compromising pictures of him to his new boyfriend.”

“Punta Cana?”

“Works like a charm. Nobody wants to be seen doing a drunken Macarena.”

Nicky laughed. “You’re a good friend.”

“I’m an excellent friend.” Nile finished her turkey sandwich and licked the sauce from her fingers. “Anyway, I’m proud of you.”

“Why is that?”

“Taking a chance at a stranger in a bar. Parading him in front of your ex like he’s your arm candy. What happened to the guy who told me that sex on the first date lacked intimacy?”

 _Can’t get any more intimate than that_ , Nicky thought, but he suppressed the urge to brag. If she knew all of the things they did in bed, she’d probably be in shock, but not like Mark. An amused kind of shock, perhaps they’d even share a good laugh over it once Nicky was past the embarrassment. But she was bound to ask why he’d come to this sort of arrangement with Joe and he didn’t really have an answer for it.

He didn’t know why the things they did in bed thrilled him so much. Or why a fierce bite on a particular spot in his body would make him hard immediately. Or why he was currently fighting the need to rub his thighs together just to make the pale-yellow bruise that still remained from their last encounter sting just a little.

“I got an interview today,” Nicky said, not wanting to let Nile pry any closer nor think about the things Joe might do to him later that day.

She looked disappointed. “You want to follow that bombshell piece of information with career problems? Boring.”

“Some of us have bills to pay, you know?”

“Maybe he can be your sugar d-”

“Nile!”

“Okay, okay! And how was it?”

“Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Within expected.”

“At least you know the job.”

Nicky pulled a face. “Private security. They’ll just shove me behind some politician or CEO and expect me to stand still for eight hours.”

“Right, and if you’re lucky, you might even take a bullet for a guy who makes a thousand times what you make.”

“Will I ever be so lucky?” He shook his head. “I don’t know, Nile. At least Merrick Labs paid decently. You should see what these other places are offering. And they look at you like they’re already planning how they’re going to replace you.”

“I see what you mean.”

“Besides, I’m not looking forward to having to come out to _another_ group of ex-military.”

Nile smiled sympathetically at that. To that day, she remained the only woman to ever be a part of Merrick’s security team, a position that came with a handful of passive-aggressive remarks and sexual harassment. Her short-lived career there came to a stop when she broke a co-worker’s hand, claiming that “if he wanted to keep his fingers intact, he should have kept them away from my ass” - a remark that had made their supervisor chuckle before issuing a formal warning to said co-worker and giving Nile a slap on the wrist.

Higher-ups were displeased when the man sued the company for creating a “hostile work environment” and Nile knew who’d bear the brunt of the blame. She took a glowing letter of recommendation with her and vowed to move away from corporate jobs from then on.

Nile said wiped her lips and said, “Maybe you should try something new, then.”

“Right,” Nicky said, sounding bitter, “other than private security, what can I add to my resume? Holding sermons and feeding the hungry isn’t exactly marketable.”

“Do you mean conducting large meetings and managing the quick and efficient distribution of perishable goods?”

Nicky laughed. “You can’t bullshit your entire resume.”

“Sure you can. I’ve just redone mine and I embellished the hell out of it.”

Nicky read between the lines, but Nile was already up and heading for the counter. She returned five minutes later with a fudge brownie sundae and another can of soda.

“Fuck healthy,” she said, sitting down and already taking a generous scoop.

“Alright, now I’m worried,” Nicky said, eying the sundae like it was a red flag. “What’s triggered this?”

“They’re closing the gym.”

Nicky could only stare. A month ago, he’d told her he’d had to quick his job because of Mark and it’d felt like going to confession. Not having a job was just another failure to add to the ever-growing list. The way Nile said it, however, made it sound as though it meant nothing, just another turn of events.

“Your gym?”

“Not _my_ gym. But yeah. Guess I’m also unemployed.”

“What happened?”

She considered the question for a moment.

“What was the last bit of info I gave you? The messy divorce, the fighting over the gym like it’s a fucking child…”

“Yeah, that.”

“Well, turned out that that was Mike and Danielle playing _nice_. They’re way past mediation, so now Mike started selling the equipment online and this morning Danielle padlocked the front door so no one could get in. We stood there, on the sidewalk, sending people home and watching Mike shouting at his lawyer for being incompetent.”

“Jesus.”

“That’s better than his first plan. He wanted us to train people right on the sidewalk so he wouldn’t lose money.”

“That’s just messed up.”

“Yup. And stupid. Three people quit on the spot, but I don’t think they meant it. We’re supposed to be back to work tomorrow, so we’ll see.

“Anyway, I think the lawyers must have seen there wasn’t much money left in an old gym and that they’re just fighting to get under each other’s skin. From what I’ve heard, both lawyers are trying to get them to sell it to a Starbucks and split the profit. Either way, I’m about to be newly unemployed.”

“Sorry, Nile.”

She shrugged but shoved more ice cream into her mouth.

“It’s a shitty job anyway,” she said.

“You could’ve told me.”

“You have your own problems.”

Nicky wanted to argue but didn’t. Nile was his best friend, but they had very different views on sharing their feelings with each other. Sometimes, Nicky felt needy, no matter how many times Nile had told him he wasn’t and that it was good for her to listen to someone else’s problems not to focus on her own.

“Honestly, I can’t wait for it to be over,” Nile said. “The last two years have been unbearable. They fight over the schedule, the staff, the bills, the color of the walls- I don’t know how it took them so long to give up.”

“At least they paid well.”

“Yes, because I was the only woman Danielle trusted around him. And that’s because she still thinks I’m a lesbian. If I don’t have to overhear their bickering ever again it will be too soon.”

Nicky nodded slowly and tried to joke, “Maybe we can both apply to work at the Starbucks.”

“Oooh, no!” Nile said, shaking the spoon emphatically. “I swore I’d never get back into the service industry. I’ve fought in wars that were less bloody. And I mean that literally.”

The waitress wiping the table next to them muttered, “Preach, sister.”

Nile laughed and offered her a fist bump. The young woman looked nervously at her manager, decided he was too busy looking at his phone, and touched Nile’s fist with hers, looking almost thrilled.

Nile laughed as she scurried away. “We’re sticking it to the Man, she and I.”

But Nicky didn’t laugh. There was a wrinkle between his eyebrows as he thought and he wasn’t paying attention to anything around him. Before he realized what he was saying, the words were out of his mouth.

“Is it a sure thing, the Starbucks?”

Nile shrugged and answered over a last mouthful of brownie. “I don’t know. Maybe. I bet they’ll stall it for as long as they can.”

“Right, because I think…”

He trailed off.

Nile looked at him over her empty sundae glass.

“Think what?”

“Even we could run that place better.”

“Yeah, better than _them_ ,” she said, like the idea was just as simple as it was silly. “And we don’t even know the first thing about running a business.”

“Right, no, you’re right,” he added. “But we could.”

Nile’s eyebrows jumped up.

“It’s a stupid idea, though,” Nicky said, hurriedly. “Not even an idea. A thought. A stupid, inconsequential thought.”

“So stupid.” Nile leaned back on her chair and crossed her arms. “Buying a gym on an impulse would be so dumb.”

“So dumb.”

“Super dumb. Especially because you’re getting separated and you have your rent-”

“Of course.”

“You can’t sink whatever money you have left on that. It’d be too risky. And I don’t have a lot of money saved up.”

She looked like she wanted Nicky to convince her.

He thought of his savings account, recently reduced to half of its contents. He considered the expensive rent he was still latched to for another three months. Then he thought of the dozens of places he’d sent his resume to, dulled by the job descriptions and disappointed by the promises of underwhelming wages.

“I mean, it’d be expensive,” Nile said, pacing her words as she considered the idea in her head. “I can probably convince them to include the equipment in the deal, but even so, that’s a mortgage. That’s a… pretty big commitment.”

“Yeah, no, you’re right.”

Nile picked up her spoon and tapped it lightly on the table as she thought.

She said, “There’s a also one-bedroom apartment upstairs.”

Nicky raised an eyebrow.

“Which means it’s probably too expensive,” she tagged at the end of her sentence, an afterthought.

Nicky nodded. “So expensive.”

“I mean, this is London we’re talking about. Not central London, but still-”

“But still.”

“Even if they want to get rid of it, they already have a buyer and… and they might drag out the sales because of the-”

“The messy divorce. Yeah. But-”

He bit his tongue. Nile watched him.

Before he had the time to regret it, he said, “I have my dad’s money.”

She stared at him.

He thought she was going to tell him no, that he couldn’t possibly invest so much in something that wouldn’t work out.

Instead, she said, “Would that even be enough?”

“Probably not.”

“Probably not.”

“Probably.”

“I’ll text them. Just to see.”

“Right.”

“It might be too late.”

“It probably is.”

She pulled her phone out of her bag.

“And if it’s not-”

“If it’s not, we could talk about it. There’s no harm in talking.”

——

The first words out of Nicky’s mouth when Joe opened the front door were, “I just bought a gym.” It took him aback and all he could say in return was, “Oh. Neat.”

Nicky rocked on his heels standing on the porch, looking like a child expecting to be chastised for doing something wrong. When he wasn’t, he started rambling.

“Sorry I didn’t text, I spent the afternoon dealing with crazy people and you said we’d see each other later today, so I decided to come anyway. Are you busy? I can come back-”

“It’s fine, Nicky,” Joe said, raising a hand to get his attention. “I’m done working for the day.”

“Okay. Good. I just bought a gym.”

“Yes, you told me.”

“Yeah, that’s-that’s happening. I think. Jury is still out- Sorry, can I come in? I feel dizzy.”

“Sure.”

Joe stepped out of the way and placed a hand on his elbow, just in case he collapsed on his way up the stairs. He sat him in front of the bay window. The afternoon sky was slowly turning to orange over Soho, but the sight didn’t seem to bring Nicky any sort of peace since he started fidgeting almost immediately.

Joe said, “I’ll go get you some water.”

“Right. I could use some water. No, scratch that. I need a proper drink. What do you have?”

“Let me see.”

Joe disappeared into the kitchen and, after peeking over boxes of takeout, he decided to mix some orange juice with only a splash of vodka, some sugar and a lot of ice. He didn’t think Nicky could handle large amounts of alcohol on what was probably an empty stomach. Just to be on the safe side, he also brought over the remaining half of the fried rice he’d had for lunch.

“Oh, you are a saint,” Nicky said, looking genuinely touched.

“From a priest, that’s a real compliment.”

Nicky drained half the tall glass but handed what was left to Joe, who took a sip before sitting across from him.

“I also have pot if you think it’ll help.”

“I haven’t had pot since my teens,” Nicky said. “Always gave me a headache, though.”

He motioned for the tall glass and Joe kept an eye on him as he drank. Before embracing his high-functioning alcoholism, Booker used to get in moods like that, manically searching for self-medication as soon as he walked through the door while cackling manically over whatever shitty event had gotten to him that day. Not that he thought Nicky was heading the same way - but if he asked for a refill, he’d just claim that was the last of the vodka.

After draining the glass, however, he tackled the reheated fried rice and ignored the melting ice cubes sweating the glass.

Joe asked, “So, you own a gym.”

“Not officially. Not yet. There are papers to sign and money to transfer and we have to go to the bank, so we’re meeting tomorrow to get things in motion, but- Yeah. Sort of.”

“How did that happen?”

“I have no idea.”

He almost chuckled but suppressed it with a forkful of rice and veggies. The story that followed was vague on details and Joe found that he had more questions than answers once he was done talking (who _were_ Mike and Danielle and where could he find the messy details of what sounded like a _very_ entertaining divorce?), but the gist was that Nicky had stumbled upon the opportunity and Nile, in his own words, “wasn’t sensible enough to tell me I’m an idiot.”

“Should I back off?” Nicky asked once the fried rice was gone and the story was done. “I should back off. Right? It’s a bad idea, isn’t it?”

Joe shrugged.

“Is that a ‘bad idea shrug’ or a ‘great idea shrug’?”

“It’s a ‘you know best’ shrug.”

Nicky blinked bewildered eyes at him.

“I _don’t_ know best! What gave you that impression? I just took the metro across London to sink all of my money in an old gym with my best friend. If anything, the State should freeze my assets until my mental capacity has been checked by three different psychologists.”

Joe laughed, “I’m pretty sure that’d be the Crown, not the State.”

Nicky didn’t laugh. “I’m not joking.”

“I know. That’s why it’s cute. I’ll go get you more orange juice.”

When he came back, he asked, “Is Nile excited too?” to which Nicky begrudgingly replied, “She is. Very much so.”

“Then I guess she doesn’t think it’s a bad idea.”

Nicky opened and closed his mouth several times, then filled the silent beat with a generous sip.

“Technically,” he said, “I’ll be the one to own the building. And the apartment upstairs. We’re still figuring out the money part- which is something else,” he added, with renewed breath. “You shouldn’t mix money and friendship. That’s a recipe for disaster.”

“I don’t know,” Joe argued gently. “Usually, that’s true. But Andy is my best friend and also my agent, so there are exceptions to the rule.”

Nicky sank his face into his hands. “Why are you being so understanding. Just tell me I’m an idiot and that I shouldn’t do it.”

Joe frowned with some amusement. “Babe, are you into financial domination? Because that’s a whole other talk we should be having.”

“Into… what?”

“Having someone else control your finances. You know, tell you where to spend your money, where not to-”

“Is _everything_ a kink?” Nicky said, sounding very exasperated.

Again, all Joe could do was laugh. “Don’t worry. I’ve added it to the list.”

“What list- Oh! Oh… god… I forgot we were doing that.” He rubbed his eyes fiercely then shook his head. “No. One issue at a time. First, you gotta tell me I’m rushing into this, then we’ll move on to our sex life.”

Joe shrugged again. “Nicky, I know you want me to be the voice of reason here - for reasons that elude me, to be honest - but I don’t think that’s as bad an idea as you made it out to be. If you have the money for it and you’re passionate about it, why not?”

“This _isn’t_ the sort of thing you can decide to do on an impulse,” Nicky argued, punctuating each word by incisively chopping the air with his right hand. “I should’ve had a plan. A budget. A fucking spreadsheet, for goodness’ sake.”

“So do that now.”

“Nile is working on it,” he admitted, looking crestfallen that his logic was falling apart. “Her brother is an accountant. I’m meeting her tomorrow morning to- is there any more alcohol? Or maybe I’ll try that pot. Pot should do it.”

Joe got up. “Alright, come on.”

“Where?”

“We’re going downstairs.”

Nicky’s shoulders slumped.

“Joe, if this is for a sex thing, I’m really not in the mood.”

“I’m capable of simply having a conversation, you know?” Joe said, smiling to take the sting out of his words. “I’m not horny all the time.”

Nicky threw him a look.

Joe conceded, “Fine. But I’m still capable of having a conversation. Come on. I want to show you what I’m working on.”

——

When his name first started showing up in galleries and magazines, Joe started bringing people home with the promise of showing them his atelier, but he soon learned that bringing groupies into his workspace only earned him criticism on his art, numerous requests to be drawn (usually naked), and, in one case, theft. He learned better quickly and now only a handful of people were allowed into the space.

Nicky hesitated at the door like one might do at church when they’re not sure they’re welcomed, but then he walked in and looked around the room. He took in the cabinets and shelves that covered most of the opposite wall, each labeled as paper, canvas, acrylics, and a myriad of pencils organized by brand and color. There was a sitting space near the bay window that was only ever occupied by Joe and Andy, occasionally Booker, and that offered a view of the street. On the opposite side, Joe had set up a drawing table with an overview camera. Framed drawings were either hanging on the walls or stacked on the floor.

Nicky had his arms crossed like he was afraid of bumping into something and breaking it. He tried to sound playful when he said, “So this is where the magic happens” but only managed to sound awkward and uncomfortable.

“It is.”

“Are all of these…” he motioned at the pictures on the wall.

“All mine.”

Nicky approached the closest picture. The drawing in black and white depicted a black woman with sorrowful eyes and bountiful curls that were braided together with living, ferocious snakes. He frowned.

“Is this… Medusa?”

Joe grinned from ear to ear.

“It _is_ Medusa, and thank you for that! The only thing people wanted to talk about when they saw this at a gallery last year was ‘but Medusa wasn’t black’.”

Nicky scoffed. “You should see the looks I get when I try to tell people Jesus wasn’t white.”

Joe laughed.

“I still can’t believe this isn’t a picture,” Nicky said, making Joe grin even wider.

Booker often told him being humble was a virtue, and Joe tried to look sheepish when people gave him that look - the “oh shit, you are a very talented person and I am in awe of you!” look - but he’d long decided that virtues were overrated and basking in compliments was much better.

“Your work is stunning,” Nicky said. “I mean, I know nothing about art, but just the amount of detail. Must have taken forever.”

He moved down the wall, looking at the drawings. There was no theme or sequence to the pictures Joe decided to put up in his atelier. Mostly, they were art he was proud of, but that he couldn’t fit in an exhibition. Medusa, on the other hand, had accompanied him to a gallery three years prior and sold for a reasonable amount by the end of the night. Then, Joe overheard the buyer saying his new wife loved that “woke shit” and Joe - whose recent fame had come accompanied by some fuck-you money - had taken the picture back and gone home.

Next to Medusa, he’d put up a drawing of 50 colored pencils stacked together, which had been the icon on his Instagram until Andy had replaced it with a picture of him. A red gradient followed, next to a beaten-down stuffed lion. Nicky stopped in front of it for a moment and pondered at it quietly.

“That’s not my best work,” Joe said. “The fluff is all wrong. It feels too flat.”

“I like it,” Nicky said, sounding a bit distant as he thought. “I… I think I had a similar one when I was a kid.” Then his eyes widened with sudden realization. “Crini. Yeah, that’s what I called it. She gave Crini to me before she passed. But I didn’t have it at the orphanage-”

He stopped threw Joe a sheepish look over his shoulder.

“Sorry, I’m making it sound like a Charles Dickens novel.”

“I don’t mind it. How old were you when…”

“Ten.”

“And your dad was…”

“With his wife and children in Milan.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“Did he-”

“What are you working on?” Nicky cut in, bringing what seemed to be a painful subject to an end.

Joe took him to the back of the atelier. The 30’ by 30’ paper lying under the camera didn’t have much on it, but the sketch was taking shape and the subject’s face was all but done.

Nicky tilted his head to the side.

“That’s going to take a lot of work.”

“Yeah, weeks!” Joe said, excitedly, holding him from behind and resting his chin on his shoulder. “And the plan is to have ten of these. It might kill me, really. But the result will be phenomenal, you just wait. I hoped to have finished this one by now, but I’ve been busy.”

Nicky turned his face towards him, placing his mouth close enough to kiss but never coming close enough.

“I’ve been distracting you, you mean.”

“Don’t tell Andy. She might lock you away to keep me focused.”

“I promise I won’t.”

Nicky turned away again and Joe settled for a kiss on the back of the head.

“I like the blindfold,” Nicky said. “It looks soft. What are these going to be?”

He pointed at the lines coming from his body.

“Rope.”

“Is it… hanging him?”

“It’s _elevating_ him. I think it’s gonna be clearer once I’m done.”

“He looks happy. Like he’s floating.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m going for. Freeing bondage, or something along these lines. I’m still sketching the rest, though. It’s still coming together in my head.”

He turned again and this time he pecked a little kiss to his lips that made Joe smile.

“You look excited.”

“Booker says I’m manic when I start a new project. But I can’t really help it.”

“You love your job. That’s a good thing.”

“I do. Maybe you’ll love your new job.”

Nicky sighed and looked at the drawing again. “And here I thought you were trying to distract me from that subject.”

“I’m just saying it’s not a bad thing to be nervous.”

“That’s different. I should have a plan, a safety net, something I can rely on when everything fails- No, don’t tell me,” he added when Joe opened his mouth to speak. “You quit your job and spent a year eating instant noodles while working on your art.”

“Wouldn’t that be romantic? The tortured artist who couldn’t afford to keep his heat on, his cold hands holding on to his very last dollar-store pencil as he draws his masterpiece in the dead of winter.”

“A little orphan girl knocks on his window and he gives her his very last piece of stale bread.”

Joe laughed. “Sorry to disappoint, but I was teaching art classes when I finally made decent money out of it.”

“Really?”

“Yes. To bored old ladies who wanted some time away from their retired husbands and noisy grandchildren.” He squeezed Nicky by the waist a little tighter. “I got lucky. Andy’s ex was pretty good at social media and she helped me get my name out there. Then Andy started representing me and being the cutthroat badass I needed. Overall, it was all it was a rather calculated risk.”

“So you think I… _shouldn’t_ do it?”

He shrugged. “I’m saying that sometimes a leap of faith works and sometimes it doesn’t. I bought this house on an impulse and I don’t regret it. But I’ve also dropped out of college on an impulse and that only got me stranded in another country, in a bad relationship.”

“Right, so I… still don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I’m saying that maybe this won’t work out and then you’ll have to find something else. Doesn’t have to be the end of everything. I mean, I did pretty well for a guy with no college degree who was almost killed by his abusive boyfriend.”

Joe saw the expression on Nicky’s face and bit his tongue.

“Which is a story for some other time. My point is, if that doesn’t work out, then you’ll find a way to fix it because that’s just what people do.”

Nicky seemed to think about that in silence - or maybe he was wondering whether asking about the abusive ex would be too personal. Finally, he sighed heavily and leaned back on Joe’s shoulder.

“God, I _hate_ how much sense you’re making.”

“Yeah, I sound like a life coach. Maybe I’ll do that if the art business doesn’t work out.”

Nicky made a sound but didn’t say anything to that. He continued to rest on Joe’s shoulder and Joe continued to hold him. The silence that followed was long and neither seemed willing to break it.

Joe was about to suggest they moved upstairs and put on a movie to distract themselves when Nicky said, “It’s my dad’s money.”

“Ah,” Joe said as though a missing piece had fallen into place and now things made more sense. “Did you ask him?”

“Never,” Nicky said, sounding angry at the mere thought. “He made it very clear he wasn’t interested in having me in his life. His wife still doesn’t know I exist. And he thought it easier to send me to an orphanage than to deal with his own fuck-up.”

Joe waited. He could feel Nicky’s chest expanding inside his arms and his heart beginning to race, but when he spoke, his voice was calm and paced.

“It wasn’t a bad orphanage. Not like in the horror stories you hear on the news. The priests weren’t abusive or cruel. They’d make you pray rosary if you misbehaved, but I never did. Mom told me to be good when I left, so I was good. Funny how these things get in your head as a child, isn’t it?”

“Funny,” Joe agreed, though his heart wasn’t in it. He brushed Nicky’s hair back. “Did you ever see your dad again?”

“When I was eighteen he came to see me. My mother had promised she wouldn’t make a fuss or come to his wife if he helped us out financially - it wasn’t blackmail, he told me. He was very adamant about that when he met me. He called it… informal child support. He could call it whatever he liked, I’d never think ill of mama.

“Anyway, he’d kept putting money aside for me and, now that I was turning eighteen, I could have it.”

“That was nice of him.”

“Yes. As long as I agreed never to contact him or his family again.”

Joe went quiet. Then said a rather loud, “Well, _fuck_ that guy.”

Though it wasn’t his intention, Nicky it got a little chuckle out of Nicky.

“Yeah, that’s what I said. And then I told him to shove his money.”

“Good for you.”

“Father Ignacio convinced me otherwise. No, it wasn’t like that,” he added when Joe scoffed. “He didn’t try to convince me to give the money to the church. I suggested it, but he wouldn’t hear of it - and he told me not to let anyone else know. I was going to need that someday. To get an education. Or to raise my own children.”

“He sounds kind.”

“He was. He was very kind. I put the money away and didn’t think about it. It’s not that much, but the old man wasn’t stingy either. He wanted to keep me quiet and he spared no expenses. I was going to use it to put it towards a family home. But that didn’t work out so… might as well use it for something else.”

Nicky turned around in his arms, staying close to him. Joe moved his hands from his waist to his face. He noticed Nicky’s eyes looked a little wet but didn’t say anything about it.

In a voice that carried a lot of emotion, Nicky said, “I really want this gym to work out.”

“I know.”

“I really, _really_ want this.”

“I know.”

Joe rested his forehead on his and held close.

“I’m a little all over the place tonight,” Nicky said after a while.

“I don’t mind it.”

“I do. We agreed this was just for sex and now I’m dumping my sob story on you.”

“Oh, no, yes, that’s true. We’ll have to have twice as much sex tomorrow to make up for-”

Nicky pushed him playfully and Joe laughed before kissing him on the lips.

“Stop being charming,” Nicky said.

Joe retorted with, “Not a chance of that happening.” He took him by the hand. “Come on, let’s watch some dumb superhero movie on Netflix. I’m sure they have a million of them.”

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, I don't know if and when the next chapter is coming, but all comments are appreciated.
> 
> Also, what should Nicky and Nile's awesome gym be called? I have no idea and I'm taking suggestions.
> 
> Also also, what do you think is on Joe's very long list of kinks? Let me know, I welcome the inspiration.


End file.
